Last night I out-outdid myself. Never before have I reached such dizzyingly efficient heights and never shall I dare to hope for the same again. This is why this entire blog post is dedicated – largely without distracting imagery – to last night’s one point five hours of amazingness (otherwise, I’ll forget).
MY YESTERDAY, BETWEEN 4.30 AND 6PM:
• Baked a carrot cake. It did not burn. Just emerged out of that oven perfectly perfect.
• Located thirteen Not Quite Overdue library books for the Mr to return.
• Put a load of washing into the machine. Filled it with only undies and socks.
• Sent one kid off to Joey Scouts and one to gymnastics and both of them had drink bottles.
• Popped a kid in the bath and told her she had to keep singing so I would know she was ok. But because she thought it would be fun if I sang from the kitchen, we both launched into ‘Oh, how lovely is the evening...’ over and over and over and then IN ROUNDS, for fifteen of the longest minutes of my life. Oh, my throat.
• Raised one eyebrow when the Mr fleetingly returned home, to re-remember the thirteen Still Not Quite Overdue library books.
• Unloaded dishwasher, loaded dishwasher, cleaned kitchen, chiselled dried Weetbix off table.
• Washed bath kid’s hair and combed it flat and long like a mermaid’s!
• Made soup from the pumpkin the Mr had hollowed out earlier, for tonight’s winter festival. Love a sparkly pumpkin lantern.
• Dropped four glass bowls but MIRACULOUSLY only one broke. Swept up. Tackled kitchen and sunroom on a vacuuming whim.
• Googled a recipe for Thai fish curry, made it and rice and later eldest kid declared it Best Dinner Ever.
The Reality Check
This morning everyone is wearing scraping-the-bottom-of-the-barrel, aged underwear, with dodgy elastic (I forgot to hang the washing out). Last night a drink bottle was left at Joey Scouts. The mermaid with the flat and long locks, was entirely miffed to wake up with sleep-tousled curls. When I preventatively wiped Weetbix off the table earlier, I stood on a teeny sliver of glass. Gale force winds threaten lighting of any pumpkin lanterns, promising one very dark winter festival. The kitchen looks like a cyclone hit. The Middle is still talking about the Worst Dinner Ever. We are all beside ourselves excited at the prospect of carrot cake for snack play or morning tea and essentially, it’s a back-to-ordinary but ALL-IS-RIGHT-WITH-THE-WORLD Tuesday.